


Who raises our envy now

by Castalie



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Booker Definitely Sounds Depressed, Booker’s POV, Foreshadowing, Loneliness, M/M, Pre-Movie, movie-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25712458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castalie/pseuds/Castalie
Summary: Booker is tired these days. Tired of feeling lonely, tired of going through the motions, tired of ‘fighting the good fight’, he’s justtired. And pissed off.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 14
Kudos: 136





	Who raises our envy now

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The story directly follows “In the world of memories”. Nicky wondered what Booker would think when he saw their underwear discarded on the floor… he wonders no more, and neither do I.  
> 2\. I never really intended to write from Booker’s POV but as it turns out, it was cathartic. Plus, having a French character was too good an opportunity to miss for this French fan ;)  
> 3\. Usual thanks go to Linda and GD for their ever so precious help <3  
> 4\. Translation at the end of the story

* * *

_C'est quand elle se tait que l'envie est à craindre_

Booker wakes up to the familiar sound of his team going about their morning routine. He keeps his eyes closed for a few minutes to listen. He has no desire to engage in any discussion right now; Joe and Andy usually wake up full of energy and ready to go, but this morning, it’s too much for him. 

He has the feeling today will be very long. They have to go over the last details of their next job before they head to Germany, and Andy expects him to do some more research on a couple of names that came up during their investigations the last few days. He winces; he can’t bear the thought of any more missions right now. What’s the point, anyway? 

He’s not ready to face the day. What he wants is to get wasted to the point that he can’t even remember his own name, can remain blissfully oblivious to the world around him. 

Last night he’d had himself a sad little party of one on the couch, as proved by the empty bottle that must have rolled off somewhere on the floor when he finally fell asleep. If there were any kind of justice in this world, he would have a raging headache right now, and nothing else would matter but his self-inflicted pain. Unfortunately, his traitorous body refuses to get with the program; it’s as if he’d never let a single drop of alcohol enter his bloodstream. He’s as good as new, ready to tackle any crisis the day might bring. _Saloperie_ , he curses internally. 

This dissonance is always disconcerting; his brain knows he should be waking up with a massive hangover, but instead he feels completely fine. Well-rested, even - physically, if not mentally. He would have welcomed the queasiness; at least there would be a good reason for him to feel like crap. He hates that he can’t blame his bad mood on an aching head or nausea. There is _no_ physical reason for him to feel so lousy. So why does he? 

Time is running out; he’ll have to get up very soon. He can hear the clattering of cups on the counter as whoever is making breakfast starts brewing coffee. Soon, a rich, strong aroma reaches him - definitely high quality. Joe or Nicky, then. Andy couldn’t care less about picking good coffee; as long as she has something hot to drink, she’s satisfied. 

He hears footsteps grow close. Andy nudges him with her foot. 

“Come on, Booker; I got us some babka from that bakery you love so much. If you don’t get off your lazy ass, we won’t leave you any.” He doesn’t react to the idle threat. They rarely talk about it, but they all have known starvation at one point or another in their lives. ‘Stealing’ someone’s food, even for fun, doesn’t sit well with any of them. 

He hears Andy pull out a chair before she sits down at the kitchen table. He catches bits of a discussion between her and Joe. Booker opens his eyes and stretches, long and deep. “Copy that, Boss.” Time to get his shit together. 

“I made you coffee,” Nicky calls out to him. 

Quality coffee, homemade babka, good company. Maybe today won’t turn out to be so terrible, after all. “Thanks, Nicky,” Booker says with a smile as he stands up. First, he needs to go to the bathroom. 

That’s when it happens.

On the way to the bathroom, he trips over something at the foot of Joe and Nicky’s rumpled bed. It’s underwear - two pairs, actually - carelessly discarded on the floor. Instantly, his mood plummets. It’s the stupidest thing, but he’s powerless to prevent it. 

It’s not hard to guess the story. He distinctly remembers that the path was clear when he had to take a piss last night. So this happened after that, when he was… asleep? Passed out? 

Without warning, he’s angry. He does have a brief moment of lucidity to acknowledge the fact that it is completely _senseless_ to get so riled up for such an ordinary thing, but he’s already seething. 

“Everything alright, Sébastien ?” 

Not ‘Booker’, not even ‘Sebastian’. _Sébastien_. Nicky must have sensed his change of mood, which means Joe is about to get on his case, too. Then Andy. Typical. He can’t even get angry in peace. 

He doesn’t answer, but makes a show of stepping over the items of clothing on the floor as he glares at them. It’s a vicious circle: he’s angry at the idea of Joe and Nicky having sex - no, that’s not it. He’s pissed at them being so _in love_ that they can’t even wait to be on their own to fuck - which makes him even angrier because he knows he’s being unfair. He would never begrudge them their relationship; he’s in awe of the love the two assholes share together - even humbled by it. But lately it’s been getting more and more difficult to be around them, although he doesn’t understand why. Which upsets him, which makes him angrier, which makes him feel like shit... _God, why can’t he stop feeling this way_?

“What is it, Book?” Now Andy is demanding his attention, too, her clever eyes piercing him, assessing. Perfect.

Joe is known to be quite unforgiving whenever he believes that anyone - even his brother in arms - is not appreciative enough of his and Nicky’s relationship. He stares steadily at Booker with an intensity that all but _dares_ him to make an insulting remark, or utter even the slightest negative word. Booker sees something else in his eyes, too. He’s convinced it’s unconscious, but there is a sort of pride in the way Joe looks at him, almost as if he’s telling Booker, ‘ _yes, I love and desire that man so much that the thought of having to wait even a single day before I could touch him is too much to bear_ ’. Or maybe Booker is seeing things that aren’t there, but the result is the same; he has to look away. 

Nicky isn’t helping much; he simply observes Booker, clearly wondering what’s wrong with him. No doubt he’s trying to find a way to make it better, but he is also resolutely unapologetic and unashamed. Nicky might be sorry they broke ‘etiquette’, and even sorrier that it obviously upsets Booker so much, but Booker has learnt that Nicky would never be sorry he was with Joe.

“Vous me _fatiguez_ , tous les deux,” he mutters. He means it sincerely, even though there is no real heat to his words. He is _tired_ of these two having what he doesn’t. 

“What the fuck, Booker!” Joe exclaims.

Booker doesn’t wait to hear the rest. He slams the bathroom door behind him and all but sags against it. He can hear Nicky’s soft tones counterbalancing the upset in Joe’s voice, which makes Booker feels even worse. 

Occasionally - like now - it just really hits him, how lonely he is, how apart he feels from the rest of the team. He _knows_ it’s no-one’s fault - definitely not Nicky’s or Joe’s, who always make sure to include Andy and him in their lives. But they’re just so entangled with one another… sometimes it hurts to witness that kind of bond. 

It doesn’t even have to be anything huge - _like finding underwear on the floor?_ a vicious voice asks inside his head - like Joe starting one of the heartfelt declarations of love that always seem to be bubbling up from within, or Nicky throwing himself in front of Joe to take a bullet that was meant for his lover - to provoke this aching emptiness.

If he’s honest with himself, most of the time it’s their little, daily actions that drive home the knowledge that he’s so alone. … He truly hates this jealousy - he loves those two men like brothers - but sometimes he can’t stop himself from being consumed with envy whenever he’s around them. 

Booker goes to the sink and splashes his face with cold water. He looks at himself in the mirror and tries to take a deep, calming breath. _Allez, on arrête les conneries maintenant,_ he tells himself. No more bullshit. Much as he’d like to, he can’t hide all day. 

When he comes out of the bathroom, he can see Nicky and Joe talking quietly together, heads bent towards the other, looking as intimate as ever. He tries to keep any emotion from showing on his face, but when he sees Joe’s eyes get a bit darker as he sits down, he knows he’s failed.

“Someone is in a foul mood today,” Joe states. If that’s not _exactly_ the kind of comment that would make him even angrier, Booker doesn’t know what is.

“Joe, please.” Nicky tries to pacify Joe, which makes Booker feel a little better. At least one of them still likes him.

“No, Nicky! I just want to know what’s going on with him.” Joe stares at him. “Talk to us.” Booker’s head isn’t so far up his own ass that he can’t recognise the genuine concern in Joe’s voice. But it doesn’t help.

“Nothing’s going on with me,” he all but growls.

Andy looks irritated but, arms crossed, is willing to let them vent their frustration. Booker is, of course, familiar with her ways of dealing with them; she’s all for letting out your anger and resentment. She always says that some things should never be hidden. He actually agrees with her - if only he could express his anger in a healthy way. At any rate, she seems ready to intervene if it gets too heated, which reassures Booker a little. She won’t let things go too far between them.

“Bullshit!” Joe is growing more exasperated by the minute. _This isn’t going to end well,_ Booker thinks. “You’ve been acting off for a while now. It can’t be because we fucked, so-”

“What if it is?” Booker shouts, cutting him off. “The two of you are like dogs, always sniffing-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Joe is in his face immediately; Booker has really crossed the line. God, he doesn’t even know why he said it. 

“Stop it!” The tone of Andy’s voice indicates that she won’t tolerate this. She glares, on the verge of erupting. “Stop it, guys.”

Booker leans back on his chair, his heart racing. He feels ashamed, which is even worse than before. What the hell is he doing?

Joe abruptly leaves his seat and takes a few steps away. Nicky doesn’t say anything, but he’s the one person who can make Booker feel guilty without uttering a single word. Suffering Nicky’s disappointment - real or imagined - is the worst, although it’s not just the disappointment. Nicky almost looks guilty, which makes Booker feel like an asshole.

“I’m sorry, Nicky.”

“What are you sorry for, exactly?” That’s such a good question that Booker almost feels like he’s been punched. 

Why is he apologizing? Booker knows his words won’t have hurt either of them. Pissed them off, definitely - Joe, especially - but not ‘hurt’, exactly. He has learnt that when you’re almost a thousand years old, everyone around you seems young and a bit stupid. He hates that he could ever say hurtful words to either of them, but he’s not worried it’ll stick. 

He _is_ sorry that he feels like he’s letting the team down. Now that he tries to analyse the feelings that keep circling in his head, he realises that, lately, he hasn’t really felt like a part of them. But he can’t find the right words to express this maddening emotion. 

Two hundred years of this life is a lot. Two hundred years of being alone - alone in a family of four, but alone all the same - is hard. He still carries with him the loss of his children, his wife. 

The heart of the matter is that Joe and Nicky can’t truly comprehend how _lonely_ he feels, no matter how hard they try for his sake. They’ve always had each other. Even at his lowest, he’s genuinely happy for them; he wouldn’t wish for either of them to feel this kind of emptiness, but it does mean they’re speaking a different language. This language of loss and emptiness can’t be learnt except through experience. They know the _fear_ of being left alone, of being separated from each other, which must be terrifying in itself - he hopes they never have to live through that - but it’s not the same thing. 

Andy now… Andy is different. Booker feels like they actually have some common ground here; she knows what it is like to have loved and to have lost a part of herself. He occasionally senses a sort of weariness slowly growing within her, but she seems to view the world in a way that is a bit alien to him. He suspects it’s her age; she’s just so ancient, she’s seen so much - maybe too much. 

Booker knows that, if he tried to talk to the three of them, they would listen to him - really listen, as only they know how - but he also knows that they wouldn’t understand. Not like he needs them to, at least. He doesn’t blame any of them, but it means that he feels a bit disconnected from them. The thought makes him feel like a traitor.

He’s also aware that they consider him young. He’s been with them for two hundred years, but they still see him as relatively ‘new’. They sometimes treat him as if he still had a lot to learn - not even in a condescending way, but there are times that the age difference shows. It might be true, he might have a lot to learn - but that knowledge doesn’t help. 

He stands and pushes the chair back. “I’m sorry, guys. Today is a bad day, that’s all.” He clenches and unclenches his fist to try and ease the tension. “I think I just need some air.”

“Wait.” Nicky stops him as he’s about to head to the door. “I don’t think being on your own is what you need right now.”

“Leave him be, Nicky,” Andy admonishes gently. “We all need some space sometimes, you know that.”

Booker is grateful to them both: Andy for respecting his wish to be alone, Nicky for encouraging him not to stay wrapped up in his own head.

“Please, let’s have breakfast together, ok? Don't go away angry,” Nicky insists. “Joe will make us coffee again.”

Joe crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows at him. “Oh, Joe will, will he?”

When Nicky just stares back, Booker can’t help the little smile that tugs at his lips. Those two.

Joe laughs and raises his hands in surrender. “You heard the man, Booker. You’ll have a breather once we’ve all had a proper breakfast together.”

Booker stays. 

Breakfast is quiet after their almost-argument. Nicky and Joe try their hardest to make him feel less shitty. He really doesn’t deserve them. He makes an effort to meet them halfway, and by the time Nicky is putting the dishes away, the feelings of anger and shame have finally faded somewhat, so he feels a bit more serene. But it’s not enough. He’s glad he listened to Nicky and didn’t leave the flat in anger, but he still feels the need to go outside and get away from them, to clear his head for good. 

Nicky still seems a little worried, but this time Joe comes to Booker’s ‘rescue’. “Come on, babe, let the man have some alone-time, ok?” 

Booker gives the three of them a little nod before heading out. 

As he steps outside, he feels his cellphone vibrate in his pocket. He frowns; very few people have this number, and all three of them are in the room he just left. He takes the phone out and checks to see if the caller ID appears on the screen. No surprise; it doesn’t. He lets it ring and waits to see whether the caller leaves a message. He does.

 _“Bonjour, Monsieur Le Livre.”_ It takes Booker a second to realise that he has just been called by his real name. He feels a shiver run down his spine. 

His brain immediately goes through the list of all potential owners of that voice. It comes to him quickly. The accent is slighter than it was, and it’s been almost five years since James Copley hired them for a job in Surabaya, but Booker rarely forgets a face or a voice - certainly not when it comes to one of their missions. 

He has to replay the message because he hasn’t listened to a word of what came after his name. Copley sounds nothing like he remembers from that previous job; he’s tired, troubled, and not nearly as articulate as he was when they worked together. He mentions his wife and ALS, and he keeps talking about ‘their secret’. It’s confusing. 

Booker listens to the message one more time. He is still not sure he understands what Copley wants. Whatever it is, Booker knows he should warn the others right away - yet something stops him. By the end of the message, Copley is all but pleading to meet with him - with any of them - as he mentions his wife again, how sick she is. It resonates with Booker. He sees the face of his youngest son, contorted with pain - with anger. 

Copley says he will call again in a couple of days. He says he hopes that, by then, someone picks up the phone. He says he only wants to talk.

Booker deletes the message, but the words are imprinted in his brain. 

He won’t tell the others - but he knows that the next time Copley calls, he will answer.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Translation** :  
>  _C'est quand elle se tait que l'envie est à craindre_ \- the entire quote goes something like this “Envy which talks and screams is always clumsy; it is when envy keeps silent that one should be afraid”  
>  _Saloperie_ : in this context, it’d be along the lines of “fuck his traitorous body, fuck the whole situation”  
>  _Vous me fatiguez, tous les deux_ : I’m so tired of you two/I’m fed up with you two - can be used either in jest or in anger  
>  _Allez, on arrête les conneries maintenant_ : Let’s cut the crap now/No more bullshit


End file.
